


Alone

by semaphoredrivethru



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Angst, Did I Mention Angst?, M/M, Post-War, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-10
Updated: 2012-04-10
Packaged: 2017-11-03 10:22:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semaphoredrivethru/pseuds/semaphoredrivethru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war, on Samhain eve, the survivors gather to bid farewell to the dead. Harry remembers the past and clings to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Repost of another old fic. See end notes for additional warnings.

It was cold.

Of course it was cold; late October in Northern Scotland usually was. But for some reason, Harry noticed the bite to the air and the numbness along the tips of his wet toes more so than ever before as he stood along the edge of the clearing, not quite willing to join the others as they waited for the licking flames to spread and grow into a proper bonfire.

Harry looked at those who had gathered, their faces drawn tightly with sadness in the growing firelight. He found that he couldn't muster much more than a brief flicker of sadness at their pitiful numbers. Too few had survived the war, too many had fallen on the battlefields of forests, empty houses and darkened alleyways. He wasn't sure when his heart had become numb to the constant wave of loss that had underlain all of their meetings and planning. Instead, Harry found that he couldn’t easily recall the few brief moments that he'd managed to steal, despite the fact that they were like shining jewels that he clutched to his breast.

Emotion rose in his throat and Harry's hands clenched around the small bundle that he held as Minerva stepped forward, her normally rigid posture bowed beneath her new responsibilities as Headmistress of Hogwarts. In her hands were a pair of violently coloured socks, decorated with polka dots, stars and crescent moons and the finely woven wool was twisted and wrinkled between her fingers.

“We come to honour the dead,” she said without preamble, her voice wavering slightly. “On this day when the veil between worlds is at its thinnest, when spirits all may communicate with us, we come to send them to the rest that heroes deserve after a war fought and won.”

_“I’m tired of this.”_

_“Tired of what? Being the great hero to be?”_

_“Fighting.”_

“Please,” Minerva continued, oblivious to Harry’s flash of a memory, “come forward and honour your dead.”

She turned towards the fire and cast the socks in. The wool caught and burned immediately, loose embers floating up amidst the sparks . 

“Albus called death the last great adventure,” Minerva said. “To his last adventure, I release him.”

_“What is it with people and this obsession with fire, anyway?”_

_“Fire purifies, Harry. It is a classic symbol of inevitable change and the chance to start over with a clean slate.”_

_“No such thing as a clean slate.”_

_“Well, let’s not spoil the fantasy for the rest of them, shall we?”_

As Minerva walked away slowly, the small group shuffled, none quite willing to let go of their precious bundles or denial. Finally, Molly Weasley stepped up to the bonfire, the few red streaks in her grey hair glowing in the light. She held a faded green waistcoat that she reluctantly tossed into the flames.

“Arthur was always so sure of what was right,” she said so softly Harry had to strain to hear her above the crackle and pop. “And he was so fascinated by the unknown. To his final adventure... I release him.” The last few words were broken by a sob as she stepped back and into the waiting arms of her daughter.

Hermione was next. Before she could re-think it, she threw a bright orange banner. It fluttered in the air for a few moments before it was snatched by the fire, curling and burning in a small puff of smoke. For once at a loss for words, she turned tearful eyes to Harry, finding him unerringly.

“To his last adventure,” they said together, both fighting past the aching void that they shared, “we release him.”

A half dozen pairs of expectant eyes turned to Harry, but he just shook his head and clutched his bundle closer and stepped away. He just couldn’t; not yet.

A girl stepped forward, sobbing incoherently as she released her lost one.

“Such a dramatic display,” a velvety voice dripping sarcasm purred from behind him. “Almost worthy of Albus himself.”

“Have some respect,” Harry chided without turning around. They were a goodly enough distance from the others, it really was no wonder that no one seemed to notice their conversation.

Severus snorted. “Why should I change this late in the game?” he asked.

“One can hope you’d have mellowed by now.”

“You know what they say about werewolves and their fur, Harry.”

Harry said nothing, only sighed.

“Thinking about Remus?” Severus asked softly as Tonks stepped forward to honour the man in question.

“No.” Harry shook his head. “Just thinking that I’d rather be anywhere but here. Preferably alone with you.”

“A little inappropriate to be having carnal thoughts just now, wouldn’t you say?” Severus chuckled.

“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean,” Harry said gently. “Though I can’t help but think about that time in Paris...”

_“I’ve never seen the_ _Eiffel_ _Tower_ _before,” Harry said as he looked out the window of their dingy hotel room. The view of the monument in question was blocked by an ugly row of houses, but the night sky was painted gold from the city lights and Harry fancied he could see the top spire of the tower even from this distance._

_“If you can refrain from getting us killed tomorrow,” Severus said, “we can go after our meeting. But for now, come to bed. We have a long day ahead of us.”_

_Harry turned around, a lascivious smile on his face. “I can do with a bit less sleep if you can,” he suggested._

_“You have a horrid one track mind, Mister Potter,” Severus said in his sternest voice, though the effect was ruined by the tender way he pulled back the covers, revealing that he wore nothing other than a pair of plain black boxers, just as Harry did._

_“Is that a complaint?”_

_“Not in the least.”_

_Harry climbed into bed beside his lover, kissing him softly. When Severus would have turned out the light, Harry stopped him._

_“I want to see you,” he said shyly. “Please?”_

_Severus pretended to think it over. “Well,” he said, “since you asked so nicely.”_

_Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re so generous.”_

_“I know. It’s part of my charm.”_

_“Severus?”_

_“Yes?”_

_“Shut up and kiss me.”_

_Obligingly, Severus bent to brush his lips against Harry’s, slowly increasing pressure until Harry’s mouth opened on a soft sigh, giving Severus the chance to slide his tongue against Harry’s. He moaned and pulled Harry closer as Harry ran his broom-calloused hand down Severus’ bare back and beneath the waistband of his boxers to brush his fingers over the swell of Severus’ arse._

_Harry broke the kiss, gasping in a lungful of air as he tilted his head back. Severus took advantage of Harry’s exposed throat and nibbled on the taut tendon there in a manner that would have made Harry’s knees buckle if he weren’t lying down already. Instead, Harry undulated against Severus, pushing his growing erection against Severus’ hip._

_With a low growl, Severus pulled back and quickly relieved them both of their pants before rolling over to cover Harry’s body with his own. They moaned in unison as their cocks rubbed together, trapped between their compressed hips. Vague intentions of asking Severus to skip the bloody foreplay flitted through Harry’s mind, disappearing as Severus slid down Harry’s body, peppering kisses and pausing to bite and suck his nipples to small, hardened peaks._

_Kneeling between Harry’s legs, Severus grasped Harry’s now complete erection and swirled his tongue over the head. Harry gasped, his hips instinctively lifting to increase the contact before he gently pushed Severus away._

_“Not tonight,” he said in a strained voice. “I just- “ he swallowed “-want to feel you.”_

_“Don’t you feel this?” Severus demanded lightly, running the tip of his finger up the underside of Harry’s straining cock and then blew softly over him._

_“It’s not enough,” Harry said. “And you know it. Now get on with it, would you?”_

_“No.”_

_“What?”_

_“Have I developed a stutter? I said no.”_

_“But why?”_ _Harry asked, his dismay only slightly held at bay by the smirk he saw in his lover’s dark eyes._

_“Because,” Severus said calmly. “I want to hear you say it.”_

_Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re a kinky son of a bitch, Snape,” he said, rather than saying what he knew Severus wanted to hear._

_“I’ll thank you not to talk about my mother that way,” Severus said, the smirk now stretching across his face. “And I’m not the one with the raging libido and one track mind, so I’d watch my mouth if I were you.”_

_“So kiss me. It does wonders for shutting us both up.”_

_Severus laughed briefly as he climbed back up Harry’s body to claim his mouth, bracing his body up with his hands on either side of Harry’s head. Their tongues met eagerly, twisting and caressing as Harry grabbed at Severus’ hips, trying to pull him closer. But Severus broke off the kiss and transferred his hands to Harry’s shoulders, holding him down._

_“Say it,” he demanded._

_Harry groaned and closed his eyes. “Please,” he said through gritted teeth. “Please fuck me, **Professor**.”_

_“There,” Severus said as he rolled away long enough to pluck a bottle of lubricant off of the bedside table. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” He stretched out beside Harry and leisurely opened the bottle._

_“You’ve got issues, **sir** ,” Harry said, but any bitterness in his voice was entirely overridden by the eager way he spread his thighs to afford better access. _

_“That may be,” Severus admitted as he slicked up his fingers and reached down to tease Harry’s opening. “But you don’t seem to be all that bothered by it.”_

_Harry was about to retort, but his words dissolved into a sigh when Severus slid a finger into him as tenderly as he would with a virgin. He lifted his hips encouragingly as he closed his eyes and began making soft sounds in the back of his throat. A single finger wasn’t enough to satisfy the need that Harry felt, but it was enough to instantly heighten the sense of anticipation in his stomach until his breath came in brief pants as Severus added a second finger, hooking both of them as he sought out Harry’s prostate._

_“Oh!” Harry said as a dozen small and medium-sized stars exploded behind his eyelids._

_“Like that, do you?” Severus murmured in his ear._

_“You know damn well I do,” Harry gasped. “More, please. Sir.”_

_In answer, Severus gave him a third finger. He still moved slowly, however; pumping in and out of Harry’s body and grazing over his prostate lightly time and again until Harry was whimpering with need. Finally, he leaned over and kissed Harry lightly as he withdrew his fingers completely._

_“On your side, Harry,” Severus whispered against Harry’s lips. When Harry obeyed, Severus moved closer, his chest nearly touching Harry’s back. Harry bent his knee, placing his foot flat on the bed as Severus slicked up his own cock, and then methodically recapping the bottle before using his long reach to return the bottle to its place on the table. Then, finally, he guided himself into Harry, bit by blissfully torturous bit._

_Once he was completely sheathed within Harry’s hot and trembling body, Severus held still for a moment, as much to let Harry adjust as to give himself the time to gather the control he would need to make this last longer than a few clumsy strokes. It had been nearly a month since they’d had the chance to do this, after all, and he wanted to make the wait worthwhile._

_“For the love of the little gods,” Harry ground out from between his teeth. “Move before I hex you.”_

_“With which wand, Mister Potter?_ _The one all the way over on the other side of the bed,” Severus asked as he ran light fingers over the crease between Harry’s thigh and pelvis, “or this one?” he finished as he wrapped his hand around Harry’s erection and stroked him slowly once, then again before letting go._

_Not waiting for an answer, Severus began rocking back and forth within Harry, guiding his lover’s hips in counterpoint with a surprisingly steady hand. For a short eternity, they moved together, the only sounds their quiet moans and the rustle of the sheets beneath them._

_Eventually, the need for more friction became too great and Severus sped up his movements and started stroking Harry’s cock again, now in time with his thrusts. Harry hissed in appreciation and hooked his bent leg behind Severus’ thigh for better leverage as he moved forward into Severus’ hand and back to impale himself on his cock._

_Disconnected words and half-formed thoughts spilled from Harry’s lips as he felt his balls tighten. He turned his head, capturing Severus’ mouth in a messy and desperate kiss._

_It was like a circuit had been completed; fireworks went off behind Harry’s closed eyes as electricity raced under his skin, making the hair all over his body stand on end. He felt as though his body contracted for a beat before exploding outward, his lover’s name on his tongue. He came, breaking off the kiss, panting and moaning loudly as he spurted on Severus’ hand and the bed._

_“You’re so beautiful when you come,” Severus growled in Harry’s ear. “Absolutely perfect.”_

_Harry, mostly insensate from his orgasm, groaned as he roused himself from his stupor to resume moving with Severus, flexing the muscles in his rear as he tried to ensure his lover would enjoy this as much as he had. He could hear Severus’ uneven and laboured breathing and the sound made Harry’s spent cock twitch in interest. It was a futile rally so soon after his orgasm, but it gave Harry the energy necessary to redouble his efforts._

_“I want you to come, sir,” he panted. “I want to feel you filling me, all hot and wet. Please, sir.”_

_In reaction, Severus grunted once, his body shaking as he pounded hard into Harry’s welcoming body. His fingers dug into Harry’s hips as the sensations overwhelmed him and he spilled himself gratefully. Momentum kept him moving for another few strokes as Severus finished riding out the last waves of his orgasm. Finally spent, he stopped moving and kissed the sweat-soaked nape of Harry’s neck._

_Reluctantly, Harry pulled away only long enough to grab his wand and spell both they and the bed clean. That accomplished, he rolled back into Severus’ waiting embrace. Beside him, Severus muttered a soft “Nox,” turning the light out even as he tightened his arms around the man he held._

_With a sigh of contentment, Harry drifted off to sleep, vague thoughts of endearments that Severus would have scoffed at floating through his mind._

“Paris was...nice,” Severus said quietly.

“I wish we could go back to then,” Harry murmured sadly. “Before...”

“There isn’t enough magic in the world for that, I’m afraid,” Severus said. “You need to go forward now.”

And in fact, nearly everyone else assembled had released their lost loved ones to the afterlife while Harry had been musing over the past. Very soon, Harry would be the only one left to do so and he fought back a childish and un-Gryffindorish urge to cry and run away.

“I don’t want to,” he admitted, feeling very lost indeed.

“You need to,” Severus insisted. “You’re young yet, despite all that you’ve seen; you have a lot of living left to do still. Learn from my mistakes and don’t cling to a past you can’t change.”

With a sigh, Harry nodded. “I hate it when you’re right,” he said shakily. Not waiting for a response, he stepped forward.

The bonfire was huge and crackling, reminding Harry of burning homes and scarred battlefields and it filled his vision and hearing with its looming presence. His mouth was dry, no matter how much he swallowed and his voice wavered slightly when he finally spoke.

“I can’t think of the right words to express who he was,” Harry said with a calm that surprised him as much as anyone else.

In the distance, a clock tower began to chime the midnight hour. Samhain would be officially over in moments and the bonfire would extinguish itself soon, whether Harry was finished or not.

**One.** **Two. Three.**

Harry paused, gathering strength as he counted the steady strikes. “To his last adventure...” He glanced over to where he had been standing, looking for the one who would understand what he was feeling, the depth of the grief he hadn’t shared with anyone. 

**Five.** **Six.**

Severus lifted his hand, palm outward in a wave of sorts. His face, as stern and severe as ever, softened for a moment as his chest heaved in what could only have been a sigh.

**Eight.**

Harry turned back to the bonfire suddenly, throwing the small fabric bag – slightly wrinkled from being clenched in his numb fingers for so long – into the flames. The smell of burning wormwood, monkshood and powdered root of asphodel wafted up for a moment, a dim reminder that it was a good thing he’d done his homework for once and knew that the smoke wouldn’t harm anyone. 

**Ten.**

“To his last adventure,” Harry repeated, his voice now wavering as much as his hands shook. 

**Eleven.**

“I... I send him,” he forced out, even as his eyes were drawn back to Severus as though seeking a comfort that Severus was incapable of giving.

The direction of the wind changed, blowing smoke into Harry’s face, but he refused to look away, as though that would somehow prevent the inevitable. His eyes were stinging, and tears of more than one sort began to trickle down his cheeks.

**Twelve.**

For a moment, it looked as though Severus was about to say something, but as the final chime rang through the air, his form became indistinct and very nearly transparent. Behind Harry, the bonfire suddenly went out; leaving the smoky clearing dimly lit by a scattering of torches and lanterns. Harry wished, not for the first time, for a time turner in order to steal more time that he could never have had enough of.

Though a number of the others were still crying quietly, it seemed to Harry as though an utter silence filled his world as Severus disappeared entirely from his sight. Samhain was over, and the veil that had parted for such a brief time was once more in place. And the survivors were left together to live their lives.

Alone. 

**Author's Note:**

> I think this was one of the last Snarry fics I ever wrote, appropriately enough. When I first posted it it was without any warnings for character death, and I've kept that now. It's clear from the get-go that people are dead, and I feel the impact of Harry's acceptance works much better when you don't know the full scope of his loss until the end.


End file.
